


Let's fall in love for the night (and forget in the morning)

by Feroxai



Series: Waters of Lethe [1]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Amnesia, Disney Plot Twist, Fluff and Angst, Humour, Identity Porn, M/M, Mystery, im gonna make your teeth rot until they fall out
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-08
Updated: 2020-01-30
Packaged: 2021-01-25 05:17:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21350860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Feroxai/pseuds/Feroxai
Summary: ON HIATUSFelix wakes up with no living memories and is dropped into a life that seems too dull and good to be true, with a perfect husband and a breezy job.Well, until he gets swept off his feet by a handsome superhero.
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Series: Waters of Lethe [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1554274
Comments: 52
Kudos: 258
Collections: Sylvix Squad Super Stories





	1. Chapter 1

When Felix woke, it was to the sounds of a faint, mechanical beeping and the almost silent whirring of machines.

The room was bright, almost artificially so. The ceiling was sanitary but ugly. Turning his head to the left, he saw some godawful curtains. He resisted the urge to flop his head back onto the pillow.

To his left, he saw a man. He had lovely red hair, wore glasses and was fit and attractive in a way Felix knew was bad news. The way he looked at Felix though— that made his toes curl. He looked awed in a way Felix couldn’t describe. Felix didn’t know it was possible for anyone to look at him like that.

In fact, Felix didn’t know much at all since he couldn’t remember anything. The uneasiness crept into his bones, high up into the tenseness of his neck.

“Who—” he said, coughing. “Who are you?”

The man’s face morphed with anguish. A dull smile appeared on his face. He reached out and traced circles into Felix’s hand. It felt unbearably familiar. “Don’t worry Felix. I’ll call a nurse, they’ll explain everything.”

The attractive man left his bedside in a hurry, probably off to fetch that nurse. Felix was left alone with his thoughts. He trawled through his memory, desperately grasping at what he could identify.

His name was Felix, that much was certain. He was a man. He was— he wasn’t sure how old he was, but he did think he was an adult. That man… he was familiar, but Felix didn’t know who he was. He couldn’t remember what he did for a living, and couldn’t put a name to what he enjoyed. He could feel the panic mounting within him.

“Oh, you’re awake,” said a gentle voice.

Felix tried to suppress his panic as he examined the nurse. She had short, neat blonde hair and an incredibly kind face, which made him want to feel reassured.

“I’m Mercedes, your doctor. How are you feeling?”

“I don’t— I don’t know. Where am I? What have you done to me?” he asked, his voice gradually getting louder and louder.

She smiled kindly, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Felix, you were in an accident. You’re hurt, so you’re resting in the hospital. You were in a coma. Are you in any pain?”

Felix didn’t feel any pain, but he was aching all over. It felt like he’d been hit with a truck. “No pain. Just sore. But I can’t remember anything. What’s wrong with me?”

As he said those words, the man by his bedside seemed to crumple in more. His fingers dug into his thighs. But he didn’t say a thing.

“I’m afraid you’re experiencing some memory loss. Do you remember your name?”

“Felix.”

“The year?”

“2030? But I don’t— I don’t know how long ago I was under.”

“That’s fine, Felix,” she said reassuringly. “We’ll run some tests later to see where you are. But right now, all we want is for you to concentrate on your recovery.”

“Wait,” he said. He turned over to the man. “Who are you?”

Mercedes’ face pinched in worry. “Sylvain, we need to ease him—”

The man raised a hand. “I’m sorry Mercedes, but I can’t just pretend that I don’t know him.” The man sounded broken up, as if he was going to cry. “I’m Sylvain, your husband.”

***

The tests showed that he had, in fact, lost much of his memory. He couldn’t recall most of his own autobiographical information. He could identify very few major recent events, but his recall of general knowledge was alright— he knew what an ashtray was, but he could not recall if he smoked.

“Luckily, none of your physical injuries are permanent. But you have a severe case of retrograde amnesia. It’s not hopeless though, you can relearn a lot of what you've forgotten and it’s not impossible for your memory to return someday.”

“Is there anything we can do?” asked Sylvain. It was a little weird having him there. He was just so _ sad._ Looking at his downcast expression made _ Felix _ feel upset too. Felix didn’t know what to do about it. He wanted to make it better, but he didn’t know where to start. It felt like the man’s husband was basically dead, and Felix had taken his place like an imposter.

“I can recommend an occupational therapist or a psychotherapist. They may be able to slowly introduce you to parts of your old life and help you be more comfortable around people again. I understand this is hard on you, but we’re here to help.”

“I don’t need a therapist,” said Felix. He didn’t like the idea of people probing around his brain more than they had to. He didn’t know exactly why he felt this way— it was just a feeling, a sharp dislike that was embedded in his stomach.

“Felix—” started Sylvain.

“I highly recommend trying one before you say no, but that’s up to you. Let me— or a GP know if you change your mind,” said Mercedes kindly. She turned to Sylvain. “Will you be okay to take care of him? You were his only emergency contact.”

Sylvain smiled bitterly. “If he’s alright going home with me. I’m always happy to take care of him.”

Felix tried to smile back reassuringly— but from the looks on their faces, he did not succeed. “I’ll take you up on that.”

***

It was another week or so before the hospital let him go. They wanted to monitor his status, in case his condition took a turn for the worst. He found he disliked bed rest. It made him twitchy and anxious.

Sylvain would come in every day and he looked less and less sad as time went by. Maybe he had accepted that his husband was gone? Felix doubted it. Sylvain seemed like the stubborn and optimistic type. He was still incredibly charming and kind towards Felix. He couldn’t really believe he was married to him.

It was unavoidable to notice that Sylvain was an unbearably handsome man, tall and cheerful. Felix had seen himself in the hospital mirror— he looked as terrible as he felt. His skin was oddly pale, his lips bitterly dry and cracked, his eye bags were terrible, his hair was honestly absolutely disgusting, and bruises lined his skin ugly green-yellows. Sylvain repeatedly assured him he looked radiant, which Felix told him sounded like bullshit (despite the compliment making him feel warm on the inside).

When Sylvain managed to push back the sadness, he was incredibly cheerful and sunny. Felix knew very little about himself, but he knew that he wasn’t very sunny at all. Sylvain seemed like his very antithesis. Maybe the saying _ opposites attract _did hold some truth. He didn’t know.

Still, he could hesitantly call Sylvain his friend. He couldn’t imagine what the past week and a half would have been like without his company. He was a bit of a chatterbox, but he was entertaining to be around. His jokes were so bad they were almost funny, and he seemed oddly delighted whenever Felix teased him.

Once, when he’d woken up from a nap, he felt Sylvain’s fingertips brushing against his hair. He blearily blinked at him. There was a peculiar look of sadness and guilt on Sylvain’s face. He watched Felix, fixated, as if he couldn't believe Felix was really there. Felix wanted to ask him about it, but the dryness of his throat and the lameness of his tongue failed him. He’d fallen back asleep and the moment was almost forgotten.

When he told him he was bored out of his mind, Sylvain bought him books. “You don’t read much anymore, but you liked this series in college. And you were obsessed with this author in sixth grade.”

Felix examined the second set first. _ Loog and the Fair Maiden of the Wind _ did sound a bit familiar, but he couldn’t recall the tale. He looked up at Sylvain in curiosity. “Did you know me when I was younger? When did we meet?”

Sylvain smiled roguishly. For a married man, he seemed a bit like a flirt. “We were childhood sweethearts.”

“I can’t imagine that,” said Felix. It seemed a bit too cheesy and good to be true. Felix didn’t see himself as a romantic person. The fact that he was married was already a shock to him.

“Okay, maybe that’s not quite true,” said Sylvain wryly. “But we _ were _ childhood best friends. You used you follow me around all the time, crying whenever I teased you—”

“There’s no way I did that,” said Felix.

Sylvain stopped and stared at him. A little hysterical laugh bubbled out of him. “Oh, that’s what you used to say whenever I bought it up. Did you remember anything?”

“No,” said Felix tersely. He jaw ached with how hard he gritted his teeth. “Sorry.”

“No, no. Don’t apologise. It’s not your fault,” he said. His smile was sad. It didn’t look right. “I asked too soon. We can keep trying.”

“What if I never remember?” he asked. “They said it’s a possibility.”

“I don’t care,” said Sylvain firmly. “When I married you, I promised myself to you in sickness or in health. I’ll never leave your side. Unless you want me to.”

Felix closed his eyes, tired. “I can’t ask that of you. I’m not the man you married.”

“Please don’t say that,” said Sylvain, anguished. He tries to take Felix’s hand, but he recoiled from the touch. Sylvain’s breathing stuttered as if he was going to cry. “Can you just— give us a second chance? Just one chance. If you decide you don’t want me anymore... I’ll still take care of you for as long as you need. I want you to be happy.”

“Alright,” said Felix. His taste couldn’t be that bad right? Without a doubt, Sylvain loved him. He seemed like a genuinely nice guy and was easy on the eyes. It didn’t objectively make sense for him to screw up something that must have taken his past self a long time to build up.

Felix tried to comfort him. That was what you were supposed to do when people were upset, right? He patted Sylvain in a vague, _ there there _ motion. “Don’t cry. I bet you’re an ugly crier, aren’t you?”

Sylvain laughed. It lightened the weight in Felix’s chest. He didn’t listen to Felix— tears escaped his eyelashes. His nose turned red as he sniffled embarrassingly. He was not, to Felix’s frustration, an ugly crier. He was a little splotchy, but his sniffles were oddly endearing.

“You’re so mean, Fe. I always liked that about you.”

Felix stared at him in confusion. “You have really weird tastes.”

“No,” said Sylvain. “I have great tastes. I fell in love with the most perfect man in the world.”

***

The ride from the hospital was thankfully uneventful. Felix was pleased to know that Sylvain’s car wasn’t a wreck.

“Don’t insult my baby like that,” he said, pouting.

He chucked Felix his phone. “The password is your birthday. Can you check what the traffic is like on the way back?”

Sylvain’s phone was a relatively new model. Felix pressed the home button. “It’s the 20th of February, right?”

“You got it,” said Sylvain cheerfully.

Felix entered the password and opened up the traffic app and their area code. “It says there’s a road closure on the Itha Highway because of super-related damage.”

“Oh, I heard about that,” said Sylvain. “Apparently Stareye was caught by some of the Blue Lions there. Damn, that means we have to take a fifteen-minute detour.”

“Stareye? Who’s that?”

“Latest member of the villainous Black Eagle league. An archer-type super. She’s pretty cute.”

Felix rolled his eyes. Sylvain really was an incorrigible flirt. But at least he was a decent driver. The trip home was uneventful.

Home, as Felix learnt, was a two-bedroom apartment near the city CBD. It wasn’t a penthouse apartment, nor overly lavish, but it was nice and cosy. The location was amazing though. Felix was honestly a little surprised they could afford it.

When he voiced the question, Sylvain shrugged. “I have rich parents and a disinherited brother. They weren’t all that happy when I married you, but I’m their only heir.”

“What about my parents?”

Sylvain looked troubled at the question. “Your mother died when you were little. Your older brother, Glenn died a few years ago, and your father passed away recently.”

“Oh,” said Felix. It made sense— he had questioned why none of his family members visited him at the hospital. Maybe he was just that unlikeable. Maybe they were homophobic and hated Sylvain and him. But he didn’t think they were all dead. Feeling sad about the absence of people he didn’t know was weird, but he felt it keenly like a dull, endless sorrow.

A few of their mutual friends had come into the hospital— there were too many of them to remember. The visits were brief; once they saw he was occupied with Sylvain, they left promptly. Sylvain had promised him that he’d reintroduce him to them again.

“Anyway,” said Sylvain. “Welcome home. I’ll give you the tour.”

He led Felix through the apartment before they stopped by the back. “This is the kitchen. It’s a bit small, but it has everything we need. We even have an oven.”

“‘How luxurious,” said Felix, which coaxed a smile out of Sylvain.

“This way is the dining area,” said Sylvain. The area was quite spacious. Like the rest of the apartment, it was trendy and mostly minimalistic, with a few personal touches here and there. It didn’t fit the mould of the place Felix thought he would live in. “We usually just eat on the kitchen island if it’s just the two of us.”

“This is the living area,” continued Sylvain. It was cozy, with a few beanbags on the ground and comfy lounge chair set. He pointed to a slightly lopsided plant near the window. “That’s Jerry, our fiddle-leaf. We inherited it from the old lady downstairs when she moved to a nursing home.”

There were few swords on display on the walls— it was an interesting design choice. Felix liked it. There was an unpacked chessboard and many misplaced books strewn around.

“Are those yours? You said I don’t read much.”

“Yeah, you usually make me put them away. I have a bad habit of pulling stuff from the shelves and never putting them back.”

“So you’re the messy one?”

Sylvain smiled melancholically. “I wouldn’t say that.”

He turned around and walked back the other way. “So over here is the master bedroom. We used to share it, but I know you won’t be comfortable with that anymore. You barely know me.”

Sylvain’s lips wavered and his hands trembled. Felix didn’t have to know him at all to know he was upset. “Sylvain…”

“No, no it’s fine. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. It’s just hard for me to get my head around. I cleared out the guest bedroom for you, it’s the other door in this hallway. I’ll just— step out for a bit of air.”

He hastily walked away, concealing his expression from Felix. He almost wanted to go after him, but he knew that was a bad idea. Sylvain needed space from him, his husband who was irrefutably worthless and broken. The last couple of weeks hovering by his beside had probably done no favours for his mental health.

Leaving Sylvain to his breather, Felix went forward to explore the master bedroom. This room was the coziest. It seemed weirdly familiar— Felix was sure he’d lived there before. The walls and bedside tables were lined with cute pictures and sentimental trinkets.

Felix examined those. He saw a few pictures of Sylvain and himself: as children, of the two walking on the beach together, riding a rollercoaster. He saw a few pictures of the two of them in a group of similarly aged people: at picnics, tourist traps and dressed as cowboys for Halloween. He even found a picture of himself and two older, similar-looking men. Maybe they were his father and brother. There weren’t any pictures of Sylvain’s family, though.

He moved over to the guest room— his room, now. It was sparser but not unwelcoming. The room had a respectable desk— maybe it was used as an office before.

He checked the closet. He was wearing jeans and a t-shirt now, but he wanted to see what else he owned. It was a pretty standard wardrobe for a guy, he thought, but as he ran his hands through his clothes, he had to praise his past self for picking out such soft fabrics.

He had a look in the closet storage too. There were a few books there, candles and other knick-knacks, including a tin of candied jalapenos, which Felix decided to try. Well, if they were in there, Sylvain probably thought they belonged to him, so he _ had _to like them.

It was delicious! It had a great hit of spice, slightly offset by a subtle sweetness. Felix nibbled on a few more before he decided to save them for later. They were too good to binge. He put them away.

Despite the ambient familiarity, something still felt off about the place. It was probably the disconnect between how much time he had spent at the place and how little he remembered it.

He waited in the room for a while but became restless quickly. It was weird sitting still after achieving his newfound freedom. Maybe it was time to go talk to Sylvain.

Sylvain was on the balcony near the kitchen and dining area. He was smoking.

“You smoke?”

Sylvain jolted a bit at the sound of Felix’s voice. He sighed. “Only when I’m stressed.”

“Ah, I suppose that makes sense.” There probably wasn’t much else more stressful than having to take care of a spouse who remembered nothing.

“You found everything okay?”

“Yeah. I mean, I found my clothes. I don’t really know where everything else is. Did I have a phone? Or a computer?”

“Well, your phone was lost in the wreckage. I think you left your laptop in the living room. I’ll show it to you later.”

“Thank you,” said Felix, feeling incredibly awkward.

Sylvain put out the cigarette. “I think we should talk. Set some boundaries. The way I’ve been treating you… isn’t going to help either of us.”

“I see,” said Felix.

“We can just treat each other as roommates while we try to build up our… friendship. I don’t want to put more pressure on you.”

“You want to break up with me?”

Sylvain took a sharp inhale and shook his head. His lips trembled and his voice broke. “Of course I don’t. But isn’t it selfish of me to keep expecting things to go back to normal someday? When I look at you, I see the love of my life. You look at me and see a stranger.”

“I’m sorry,” said Felix. He didn’t know what else to say. He wanted to remember this life he’d built himself. But he couldn’t.

“I don’t want your apologies,” Sylvain said, and that made Felix feel cold. He didn’t know if he had anything else to give.

“You want your Felix back.”

Sylvain took him by the hand. “No, no. You’re here. I just— I want you to look at me like I matter again.”

Felix patted him on the shoulder awkwardly. “I can’t promise I’ll remember. But didn't you make me fall in love with you before? You could do it again.”

Sylvain leaned into his touch. He was a bit like a big, old puppy. Felix could see why he married him.

He laughed wetly. “Yeah, I suppose”.

“And for the record, when I look at you, I see a friend. Not a roommate or a stranger."

“Yeah?” God, he sounded so earnest, it was impossible to say no.

“Yeah,” said Felix, smiling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> look at the tags, that's all I'm promising. Also if you have any triggers, DM me on tumblr/twitter (feroxai and feroxai_ respectively) to double check if this fic is right for you. 
> 
> I'm writing this as part of my NaNo wc, updates should be every 1.5-2 weeks. This chapter proofed by Nuity & Cha (akhikosanada).


	2. Chapter 2

Felix hated mornings. He took ages to wake up; he was a captive to drowsiness. It clung to him like static. Frequently, Sylvain would bring him breakfast in bed and chatter uselessly, updating Felix on the comings and goings of their friends. He assured Felix that he would be able to remember those friends again eventually, but Felix had his doubts. The only way he would remember them was if he started compiling their information into the little filing cabinets in his brain.

“Things will be hard for a while,” said Sylvain. Felix hated how sunny and charming he was first thing in the morning. It had to be _illegal_. Sylvain tentatively reached out for Felix’s hand on the bed and played with his fingers. Felix tried to ignore how the motion melted his heart a little.

“We should take things slowly. I’ll help introduce things to you again slowly. I’ll be here every step of the way,” he said, trying to reassure him. 

Gods, thought Felix. What did he do in his past life to deserve this man?

“I’ve called into your workplace,” continued Sylvain. “They’ve put you on paid leave. You’re a workaholic so you’ve accumulated plenty of it.”

It sounded in-character for him. Felix was already so restless with nothing to do. He hated it. He huffed. “Thanks, Sylvain.” 

“I’m trying to take time off work too, but it’s harder because we’re understaffed. I might get called in if there’s an emergency. It’s bushfire season, and we’re so close to the National Park.”

“You’re a firefighter?” Felix didn’t know why, but it suited him.

“You bet I am sweetheart,” he said with a wink. “You’re looking at Fhirdiad’s Mr. July.”

“July,” said Felix flatly. 

“Yeah-- cause it’s the hottest month, and I’m the h--”

Felix wanted to groan. God, how was this man so cheesy? “Yeah, yeah, I get it. And don’t call me sweetheart.”

“Really? You used to love it when I called you pet names.”

Felix found that hard to believe. Petnames made his skin crawl a little, which was incredibly odd considering how much Sylvain seemed to enjoy using them. “Can’t you use them less?”

Sylvain frowned, looking frustratingly pitiful. “I mean, yeah. Sorry. It’s just a habit.”

Felix felt a little guilty. Once again, he utterly failed to be the person he was supposed to be. “You don’t have to stop,” he said, trying to compromise. “I just need to get used to it.”

Sylvain immediately perked up. “Of course. I understand.”

***

Felix grew to like the apartment. It was warm and cosy and above all else, familiar. 

But as nice as it was, he itched to go outside. Spending two weeks in a hospital was enough to make anyone go stir-crazy. He still had to recuperate a bit at home though. He was unfortunately still sore. 

Sylvain had shown him where his laptop was and told him that his password was his brother's birthday. Felix didn’t know how to feel about that. 

His social media usage was bland; he had an Instagram and Facebook account, but those were both years old, and he’d barely touched them. Sylvain, surprisingly, didn’t really use Facebook either. He did use Instagram-- he had tagged Felix in a few posts in the last few years, but he mainly posted pictures of his food and occasionally, his abs. They were nice abs, but Felix couldn’t believe he married someone so shameless…. 

Either way, the internet bored him. Googling the latest world events only kept him busy for a couple of days. He did fall into a Wikipedia rabbit hole on the topic of superpowers, which was terribly interesting, but did little to curb his interest in actually going outside.

Spending time with Sylvain was… bearable. He would call it nice, if Sylvain didn’t constantly switch between hovering around him asking him if everything was fine and staring off into the distance with a melancholic look in his eye. It made it impossible for Felix to know what to do. He was _ trying _to make things work, but Sylvain was hard to handle even if he was seemingly easy to read.

Sylvain insisted that they should watch a few movies together to update his popular culture knowledge. They had tried to marathon Lord of the Rings and Star Wars, but Felix got bored during the first movie of each series. 

More than once, he’d woken up after a movie cuddling Sylvain or with his head in Sylvain’s lap. Sylvain would often be conscious, looking down at him with fondness and satisfaction. It was comfortable. It was _weird_, having someone like that in his life. But it was easy too, even if he barely knew the man, to settle back into his embrace and accept that warmth.

Here’s something else that Felix learnt; Sylvain was a surprisingly decent cook. His technique and seasoning was good, even if Felix preferred his food with a bit more of a kick. He’d made some incredibly healthy and hearty meals for him, but honestly? Felix was craving junk food. He would kill for pizza or ice cream.

When he said as much, Sylvain looked terribly offended. “But you’ve been on a health kick. You made me learn all of these recipes!”

“I don’t see why I must adhere to terrible life choices I don’t remember.”

Sylvain looked even more offended at that. “We were supposed to get fit and work out together. We already bought a gym membership.”

Working out sounded fine in Felix’s head. Nice, even. It beat sitting around. But he wanted a break from the rabbit food once in a while. 

“Working out? You don’t look like you need my help with that,” he said. He meant it. Sylvain was very toned. A sight for sore eyes.

Sylvain pouted. “You said my belly was starting to show ‘cause I’m getting old.” He lifted up his shirt to examine his abs. The view was familiar. Felix found himself fixated. He tore his eyes away.

“You’re what? Twenty six? You’re no old man, you still act like a child.”

“Alright, what if I said that _you_ wanted to build more muscle?”

Alright, Felix had seen himself in the mirror. Felix was fit and toned, but in a way where he instinctively knew he would find it difficult to put on visible bulk. But hey-- he knew he looked good.

He shrugged. “What, was I insecure? It’s not like you’re unsatisfied with how I look.”

Felix wasn’t blind. Beyond the lingering sadness and guilt he saw on Sylvain’s face, he definitely saw hints of satisfaction, possessiveness, and attraction whenever his eyes lingered on him.

Sylvain smirked. “Honeybug, you’re always hot in my eyes.”

Felix stabbed his fork into his chicken salad. “Then shut up about it.”

They went out for pizza that night.

***

A laptop was fine for collecting information and watching youtube, but what Felix really needed was a mobile phone.

Sylvain did offer to take him out a couple of days after he got out of the hospital, but he ended up being called out to work a few times which interrupted their plans.

Eventually, they managed to go to the department store and Felix said hello to his new Android phone. Sylvain had also bought him a Fitbit. “You’re still working out with me,” he insisted. 

Felix acquiesced and wore it when he remembered to. Once, after leaving it on the sink, it almost fell in the toilet. He didn’t tell Sylvain about that. 

Thumbing through his phone, he looked at his contacts. Sylvain had insisted that Felix add his number but it's not like the request made a difference-- Felix didn't have anyone else to add into his phone. His dependence on Sylvain started to grate on his nerves.

"I'm going out," he announced.

Sylvain looked up from his book. Despite his uncalled-for annoyance towards him, Felix still found him infuriatingly attractive. Glasses were a good look on him. It was a pity he only wore them while reading. It made him look intellectual. Maybe Felix had a thing for nerds.

"Oh, where did you want to go? Do want me to come with you?”

“No. I’m going by myself.”

Sylvain looked uncertain. “Well, if you’re sure. You can call me if you need any help okay? I’ll come get you no matter where you are.”

It was odd. For some reason, he thought that Sylvain would protest more at his decision; he seemed so protective of Felix that it seemed off for him to let him go so easily. Still, it brought him relief. Maybe Sylvain really did trust him to look after himself.

“I’ll be back before dinner,” said Felix. It was best to leave before he got cold feet and changed his mind.

Felix did not know where he was going to go, but that was part of the thrill of it. Sylvain had driven him to the local supermarket and the local shopping centre but it just wasn’t the same as going by himself. He didn’t have anything that he wanted to buy though, so he decided to walk to the closest park.

Felix had quickly learned that superpowers ruled the country. Fhirdiad in particular was crawling with superheroes and supervillains. Most of them belonged to a league.

Supervillains were usually enemies of the state rather than garden variety criminals, while superheroes were state-sanctioned warriors under the employ of the government. They seemed to perform a function similar to 'government employees' and 'celebrities' as far as Felix could tell. 

Superheroes tended to be much more popular than politicians. It made sense. Power was attractive, and they were usually fit and athletic like models. Felix saw heroes emblazoned on billboards, online ads and household products. The amount of propaganda was astonishing. 

Even just walking down his street he saw way too much of the Blue Lions-- the city’s premier superhero league. People wore Blue Lions merch and newspapers sang their praises following the capture of Stareye. Felix didn’t see the appeal. So what if they were a jacked-up version of the police? He would bet that Sylvain did more good as a firefighter than any of those so-called heroes.

When he finally got into the park, he was a little tired. Everything really was so _ loud _, and this was just the inner suburbs of the city. Being in the city CBD would probably give him an aneurysm. 

He had thought things through a little, and had brought a book with him to read. It was a nice day, so he sat under a nice little nook under the willow tree. The grass was unfortunately a little moist, but he begrudgingly put up with it.

He'd brought _Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone_ with him. Sylvain insisted that he had enjoyed it when he was younger. 

He had only gotten through the first couple of chapters of the book when he was interrupted by a dog barreling into him. He sputtered as he found himself pinned by a huge labradoodle. He barely managed to avoid a faceful of slobber.

“Grace! Leave the poor man alone."

The dog whined but gently moved back. Felix tried to sit up. Ugh, his book was lost in the grass. Unfortunately, most of the morning dew hadn’t dried up yet. He’d resigned himself to wet jeans, but hadn’t anticipated getting tackled by a dog. The dog didn't leave his side and continued panting happily next to him.

Felix looked for the source of the voice. It was a woman dressed in athletic wear. In a distant part of his mind, he registered that she was quite pretty. She had long brown hair and a dainty face, and smiled in a way which showed she _ knew _ she was attractive and knew exactly how to leverage it. 

"Hi," she said cheerfully. "Sorry about my dog, she's never done that before. Grace usually takes a while to warm up to strangers. Are you alright?"

Felix stared at her while his mental bearing stabilised. "I'm fine," he said tersely. 

She frowned. "Oh no! Your jacket. It's got green all over it. Gods, it It looks expensive, I feel awful. I'll pay for the dry cleaning."

Felix examined himself-- he was foolishly wearing one of Sylvain's trendy jackets. This one was a pure off-white. Sylvain got stupidly happy whenever he wore his clothes. He winced. From what little he knew of Sylvain's taste, the jacket _ was _ probably expensive and a pain to clean. 

Still, he wasn’t in the mood to talk to a random stranger. "No, it's fine. I can take care of it."

The dog continued pawing at him and butting her head against his thigh. It was kind of cute. Weird. He wasn’t really a dog person.

She pouted. "I insist. I won't take no for an answer. I feel _terrible. _"

Felix felt a little out of his depth. Was she… flirting? He was married! He knew he didn’t wear a ring, but it still felt wrong to be the recipient of flirtatious overtures. 

The woman’s expression dimmed a bit at his silence. "Look, why don't I give you my number? You can call if you change your mind,” she said with a wink.

She handed him a business card-- Dorothea Arnault, performer and vocal coach, it read in black and gold lettering. 

“Thanks,” he said as he put it in his pocket. He found his book and stood up to leave. Poor Harry Potter had a few brown patches on its pages. He hoped Sylvain wouldn’t feel too annoyed about that. 

The dog followed him for a few paces until Dorothea whistled at her to come back to her. Surprisingly, the dog obeyed. It was strange that such an obedient dog barreled into him.

Perhaps he was being followed by a cloud of misfortune.

When he got home, he found that Sylvain was not upset or annoyed at all. Instead, he fretted after him. He ran a hot bath and added some lavender oil to it. At Felix’s questioning look, he explained that it was something Felix used to do to relax. 

He stayed until Felix started stripping off his shirt. His eyes followed the line of Felix’s back and neck. Felix could feel his ears burn up. Intellectually, he knew that Sylvain had seen worse. But it was different from choosing to share himself with him. 

“Do you mind?” 

Sylvain blinked and smiled charmingly. “Sorry babe, it’s hard to take my eyes off of you.”

Felix threw a loofah at him, which Sylvain dodge with ease. He picked it up and threw it into the bath, splashing Felix’s pants. 

“Get out, or it’s the soap bar next,” said Felix, but a smile threatened to appear on his face. 

Sylvain put his hands into the surrender position and ran out, laughing.

Later, Felix found that Dorothea’s business card must have dropped out of his pocket or ended up as paper mâché in the wash. He couldn't find it. It's not like it mattered, he thought. He was going to throw it out anyway.

***

After his first semi-successful venture, Felix continued to venture outside when he could. It was a good way to clear his mind and get a break from both Sylvain and the routine memorisation of the facts on his life.

Sylvain earnestly tried to suggest that he see a therapist, but Felix felt very uncomfortable about the matter. He knew it would be hard to get back on track without one, but it wouldn’t be _impossible _.

Sylvain told him little details of their everyday lives. He knew the names and vague details of all of their friends now, if not their faces. He knew that he worked in security from an office based in the docks. He knew he loved his brother and missed him dearly. He knew Sylvain did not have any family to speak of. Syvain wove wonderful tales of their childhood and romance in a way that made it feel inexplicably real. 

He didn’t want to see a therapist. Sylvain didn’t push the matter, but he made sure that Felix knew that it was an option; they had the money and Felix unfortunately had plenty of time to see one.

Once Felix was more comfortable going out on his own and buying his own things, Sylvain decided to ask him about connecting more to his past.

“So our friends called,” Sylvain said.

“Friends?”

“Yeah, well most of them texted, but Ingrid called. They were wondering if you’d like to have dinner with them. We can go out or have it here or at one of their places. It’s honestly up to you.”

Felix frowned. He didn’t really want to go out to eat with people who were essentially strangers. What if he had a breakdown in the middle of a steakhouse? That would be pathetic. But at the same time… he didn’t really want people intruding in their home. The apartment had become a bit of a sanctuary for Sylvain and him. Between their shared meals and half-assed cuddling on the couch and cheesy banter while doing the chores, it was starting to feel like home.

“I wouldn’t mind going to one of their places,” said Felix. He was a bit curious. A home could tell you a lot about a person.

Sylvain grinned. “Great. I’ll let them know. They’ll be thrilled. You don’t know how much they’ve missed you.”

Dinner came around faster than Felix thought it would. Sylvain had hopped on the phone almost immediately after Felix had said yes to arrange the dates-- they decided that the end of the week was perfect. 

Sylvain tried to spend as much time as he could with Felix, but he was still called to work a couple of times that week. Everytime he came back from a shift, he seemed bone-tired. Felix would be the one running him baths instead. Sylvain liked his ice cold. He claimed it was good for sore muscles. He didn't talk about his job unless prompted, which was odd considering how he never shuts up about anything else. Occasionally, Felix would catch glimpses of his bruises, but Sylvain worked tirelessly to keep them covered. They healed weirdly fast, but Felix just assumed that they must have been light bruises. Sylvain was probably one of those paper-skinned people who bruised like plums.

There was something not quite right, but Felix doubted that Sylvain was part of an underground fight club. He was too much of a wuss for that.

Anytime he brought Sylvain’s work up, he would just regale stories about his “daring rescues”. He would clam up if Felix said a word about his wounds and bruises and assured him it was a part of the job. Despite his curiosity, he didn’t really want to confront Sylvain about it. Still, he had to admit that he was worried. Sylvain was such an airhead… he probably couldn’t tell when he was being played with.

It was a good thing he had Felix looking out for him. Felix would get to the bottom of it eventually

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updated the tags to better reflect this fic!! 
> 
> Beta'd by the wonderful Aeryx ([Scythe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scythe/pseuds/Scythe)) and Cha ([akhikosanada](https://archiveofourown.org/users/akhikosanada/pseuds/akhikosanada)). Thanks guys!!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> fish

Felix wasn't a morning person, but that didn't mean he had an easy time sleeping at night. He would often toss and turn in bed. Sometimes he would just stare at his ceiling for hours and hours. Sometimes he would just turn on the bedside light and start reading. He had gone to the library and borrowed a few novels that caught his eye. He was halfway through the Count of Monte Cristo. It was dry and long, so it was perfect for making him drowsy. 

Sylvain would jokingly offer to read to him sometimes, but Felix always shut him down. He didn’t need bedtime stories.

Felix woke up at 3 am on that Friday morning. His throat was parched, so he walked quietly in the kitchen.

It was dark, as expected. Sylvain was very conscious of the environment, so they usually made sure everything was off before they went to bed. In the darkness, he saw a figure in by the kitchen island. He reached over to the light switch in trepidation.

He saw Sylvain there under the stark light, clutching a glass of water. His skin was pale and he looked like he was trembling. At the sudden illumination, he turned to Felix. His eyes were hazy, but when he focused on Felix’s presence, a deep sadness appeared in them. 

“Felix,” he croaked. On closer inspection, he looked like he’d been crying; his eyes were red. He was just standing there, listless and looking incredibly lost. Felix couldn’t help but step closer to him. 

He’d thought that Sylvain was fine and was taking everything very well. But he was just scarily adept at wearing a mask... he didn’t seem okay at all. 

Sylvain reached out to touch him, hesitantly on the arm. When Felix didn’t move away, Sylvain tentatively pulled him into a hug and buried his face into the crook of Felix’s neck. Felix could feel the dampness of Sylvain’s tears on his shoulder. He stiffened up, not entirely prepared for the full-body contact, but after a moment he gently wrapped his arms around Sylvain. 

“I thought I lost you,” Sylvain said after a moment of silence. His voice was hoarse. “I don’t know what I’d do without you here, Felix. You can’t leave me.” 

Felix tried not to freeze and worked through the tension of his body. He softly stroked Sylvain’s back in an approximation of a comforting gesture. 

It was impossible to forget his amnesia when it was such a prevalent part of his life. But it was easy to forget the fact that he was in a terrible car accident when it was something that he was clinically informed of retroactively. Normal people couldn’t brush off their loved ones being so badly hurt. Felix was in a coma for at least a week; it couldn’t have been easy for Sylvain to handle. Clearly the weeks by Felix’s bedside had done something to Sylvain. It had cracked and fractured him. 

Felix closed his eyes and let himself sink into Sylvain’s warmth. Sylvain smelt vaguely of their shower gel and his expensive shampoo. He could feel Sylvain’s fingertips dig into his back like he didn’t want to let go.

“I’m here,” Felix said. “I’m not going anywhere.” 

Contrary to his expectations, his words did not encourage Sylvain to let go. Instead, he gripped Felix even tighter; his fingers bunched up Felix’s flannel pyjamas. 

He lifted his head. His sorrowful eyes stared straight into Felix's. “You promised you’d stay. But I can’t stop you from, from leaving me,” he said, his throat choking up with his tears. Maybe Sylvain _ was _ a bit of an ugly crier. Despite his tough exterior, Felix found that he really couldn't just ignore Sylvain's tears. Seeing him upset lit an itchy feeling in Felix's chest.

Felix sighed and removed his hands from Sylvain’s torso. He moved his hands to Sylvain’s cheeks instead, stroking his face with his thumbs. “Why would you think I’d leave you?”

Sylvain’s expression shuttered but he made no move to remove himself from Felix. He took a deep breath. “We fought,” he said. “Before your accident. If I had been more understanding, you wouldn’t have left and none of this would have happened. Gods, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry Felix.” 

“It’s not your fault,” said Felix. “It was an accident, wasn’t it?”

Sylvain's lips opened but he didn’t say anything, as if he was lost for words. Sylvain hesitated before he removed one of his arms from his embrace. He cradled Felix’s hand against his face. His tears started to fall. “That doesn’t change how I feel. If I could go back—”

“But you can’t,” said Felix firmly. “We can’t wallow in regret, Sylvain.”

Sylvain’s lips quirked into a faint, broken little smile. “You’re right,” he said. “We can’t. We have to live with what we’ve done.” 

Felix moved backwards, guiding Sylvain with him as he went. He directed him towards the couch. It was a rare cool summer night. Felix arranged Sylvain on the couch so he could rest against him. Sylvain obediently leaned his body weight into him. 

“Why were you awake?” he asked. Sylvain twitched at the sound of his voice.

“I had a nightmare.”

“Just like a child,” Felix said, but his voice lacked judgement. Sylvain needed comfort— that much Felix understood. He patted Sylvain’s arm gently.

“If I had nightmares like that one as a kid, I’d be even more messed up,” Sylvain said with a watery laugh.

“What happened? Do you remember?” It would have had to have been an extreme nightmare to get that kind of response from Sylvain. It probably had something to do with him, if Sylvain sought his presence so keenly.

“I saw you die. Over and over again. You said you hated me and that you never wanted to see me again.” 

“I wouldn’t say that,” said Felix. 

Sylvain snorted. “You don’t remember anything. How would you know? You've only known me for a month. For all you know, I could be a massive asshole who’s just—”

Felix pinched him in the side, hard. Sylvain jolted and let out an entertaining yelp. Felix glared at him. “Don’t talk about yourself like that. You’re… a good person.” 

Sylvain exhaled shakily and rested his forehead onto Felix's neck. Felix could feel him murmur into his collarbone. 

“Am I?" He asked, but it didn't seem like he was waiting for a response. "It’s so dumb, I can’t even remember what we fought about. I don’t know why I didn’t just go along with whatever you said. You’ve always meant the world to me.”

“Have you learnt your lesson? Just listen to whatever I say,” said Felix haughtily, trying to lighten up the mood.

That earned a real laugh out of him. Gods, he was beautiful, thought Felix. He could barely see him in dim lighting— the kitchen lights didn’t carry so far, but he could feel the softness of his hair against his shirt. Sylvain wrinkled his nose a bit when he was genuinely laughing, which Felix found hopelessly endearing.

"Yeah, I'll keep that in mind Mr Fraldarius," he said in a low, flirtatious manner.

He must be feeling better if he was in the mood to tease him, Felix thought. Felix pinched him again, on his sides, which made him yelp once more. 

"That's Mr Fraldarius-Gautier to you, cretin," said Felix.

"Mhmm," hummed Sylvain as he snuggled harder into him. He was as clingy as a koala. But Felix couldn't help but indulge him. 

He wasn’t so foolish to think that he has never fought with Sylvain before; with their different personalities, it was inevitable that they’d clash. In the short span of time in which Felix has known him, he has learnt that Sylvain helped little old ladies get off the bus, cried whenever the dog died in movies and always offered to help his friends whenever they called for assistance. Despite the weight that Felix’s amnesia had on their relationship, Sylvain never once took his frustration out on him. Felix had faith that Sylvain was good, even if he could be frustrating, annoying, and selfish. 

What was really frustrating was that there wasn’t much Felix could do to change how Sylvain perceived himself. He _ didn’t_ know what their relationship was like, or what he could have possibly argued with him about. He wanted to know. He felt like an imposter, a simulacrum, an _imitation._How could he convince Sylvain of anything when he himself didn’t feel real?

***

Their dinner with their friends was scheduled for that Saturday, a day after Sylvain's breakdown. Felix was understandably nervous, so Sylvain offered to preface it with a date.

"We haven’t had a chance to go out in a while,” said Sylvain. “I haven’t been treating you right.”

Felix shook his head. “Haven’t we gone out to dinner in the past few weeks? We went shopping a few days ago. Surely your memory isn’t going in your old age.”

“Those weren’t dates, that's just we do all the time,” rebutted Sylvain. “I want to spoil you.”

“You don’t have to waste your time on that. We’re already married.”

“I want to remind you why you married me. I won’t take you for granted,” he said that as he sneakily took Felix’s hand. Felix didn’t want to pull away even though his own hands felt clammy. 

“Sounds like a waste of time,” said Felix, but he followed Sylvain down the boulevard anyway. They picked up breakfast at the fancy bakery nearby before hopping on a bus to the city. Sylvain didn’t like driving to the CBD when he could avoid it— finding parking was a nightmare.

“Where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise.”

Felix didn't really like surprises. He liked knowing exactly what was going to happen. It was easier to mentally prepare himself that way. Sylvain was the opposite— he _loved_ surprises. He seemed to think that they made life less boring. Felix thought Sylvain needed new hobbies.

After they got off the bus and got off the ferry, they ended up at a wharf on the northern beaches. It was a scenic place, with many quaint shops and eateries. The only thing that seemed out of place was the gaudy, superhero endorsement ads plastered around the billboards and on posters. In the distance, on the far right of the docks was a sizeable building with a huge sign, which read _Sunshine Aquarium_.

"Really?" asked Felix. "You brought me here to look at fish?"

Sylvain smiled. He seemed to be dwelling on nostalgia; perhaps he was recalling fond memories. "It's where we had our first date. They had a special exhibition on sharks and stingrays. You had a phase."

"A phase," said Felix flatly. 

"Yeah. I mean, you had a phase when you were a kid. Whenever Dimitri wanted to play Pirates and Mermaids, you always demanded to be a shark. I don't think you ever really got over it." 

Sylvain _loved_ telling stories like this— the more embarrassing, the better. 

Felix snorted. "I don't want to know how lame I was as a kid."

Sylvain frowned and bumped Felix in the shoulder. "Hey, no one is allowed to call my best friend lame except for me," he said. That earned a smile from Felix. He'd thought that Sylvain was some smooth maestro at first, but he was really a huge dork.

They quickly bought their tickets. Apparently, Sylvain had a yearly membership, which entitled him to discounted tickets.

"I like fish," he said in response to Felix's questioning look.

The aquarium was quite large so they picked up a map from the info desk, which Sylvain handed to him. Sylvain explained that he knew the aquarium quite well since they went on regular dates there.

"Were you hoping that coming here would jog my memory?" Asked Felix.

"No," said Sylvain. "I was hoping that you would be able to make some new memories to be fond of. You might never remember anything from before. I'd like you to have wonderful memories of now. Here, with me. Plus the jellyfish are cute."

Felix examined the map. "I get to pick the exhibit?"

"Yeah, go wild."

Felix snorted. He decidedly vetoed the stingrays and sharks. He didn't want to be predictable. Sylvain was smug enough as it was. The jellyfish exhibit was close to some other interesting displays, such as the dugongs and the penguins. If Sylvain happened to like jellyfish, then that was just a bonus.

He showed Sylvain his pick, and Sylvain happily took his hand and lead him there, swinging their clasped hands to and fro. He didn’t even have to glance at the map to know where to go.

“You always did like the penguins best,” said Sylvain. 

“Those things? They look foolish waddling around like that."

"Well, you've always had a soft spot for fools," said Sylvain cheekily.

The penguin display was nice; the plaques read that they were called little penguins. The penguins themselves seemed happy in a spacious display. Sylvain explained that they used to be called fairy penguins, before zoos and museums moved to calling them their alternate name; they were worried about being politically incorrect and offending the LGBTIQ community. 

“There’s a gay penguin couple here. They have a kid now,” said Sylvain. “It was all over twitter.”

“What, did they adopt an egg or something?”

“That’s exactly what they did! I don't see any of the baby penguins though,” Sylvain said sullenly. Felix made a mental note to buy Sylvain a penguin plush at the gift shop. He was stupidly easy to cheer up like that.

Sylvain insisted to take photos of Felix looking at the penguins, manhandling him into a bunch of foolish poses which made Felix want to swat his hands away. Felix watched Sylvain try and fail to take a selfie with the jellyfish for five minutes before he offered to take a photo for him. 

A stranger walking past offered to take a picture of them in front of the dugongs. Sylvain cheerfully handed them his phone and threw his arm around Felix. It was a comfortable weight on his shoulders, though the contact did make Felix blush. He tried his best not to tense up; that would just look awkward. Cuddling on the couch was one thing, but public displays of affection were another. He was glad that Sylvain hadn't tried anything more involved than hand holding until then. 

Still, it was hard to pull away when Sylvain seemed so keen to pose for the picture. He was _glowing._There was also a part of Felix which felt insecure and almost jealous of his past self. Sylvain clearly loved that version of him. Felix knew that without his memories, he was inferior in every possible way. So he swallowed down his discomfort and let himself be drawn into Sylvain's whims. Sylvain was right— making new memories was important.

After the dugongs, they walked past a small pool exhibit which seemed to be a collaboration with a water-based superhero. It didn’t seem that interesting.

Felix's eye was drawn to the touch pool nearby. It was small, so there weren’t any sharks or rays, which was probably more humane. There were shells, coral, starfish and shark eggs. He was reluctantly fascinated by the shark eggs, which felt kind of rubbery. 

“You wanna see the sharks, babe?” asked Sylvain, almost flippantly. 

Felix frowned at the pet name. “Sylvain, I’m still…” 

“Right, right. Sorry. Old habits.” Sylvain’s smile didn’t reach his eyes.

Felix started walking towards where he thought the sharks were. “It’s this way, right?”

“Yeah, wait up for me though,” Sylvain called after him. He walked towards Felix and continued talking about the previous times they’d gone to the aquarium.

The shark display wasn’t a normal pool, but a tunnel. It was awesome watching the rays swim overhead. Felix was charmed by their gentle flapping. 

Sylvain didn’t seem that interested in the sea creatures at all— he spent most of his time in the tunnel watching Felix watch the rays.

“I thought you said you liked fish,” said Felix, trying not to feel flustered at Sylvain’s soft gaze.

"Yeah, I love fish," said Sylvain, but with the way he said it, Felix knew that fish didn't actually mean _fish_. He could feel the heat of a blush make it up to his ears.

"Whatever," said Felix, as flippantly as he could. He tried to ignored Sylvain and took out his phone to take photos of the giant rays. He turned off flash on his phone, as per the signs. Eventually he gave up on snapshots and took videos instead. Videos were more fun to watch— it wasn't like he was going to share these with anyone. Their dinner that night wasn't going to be a show and tell. 

It was hard to ignore Sylvain' presence, especially since he helped Felix navigate the tunnel without bumping into anyone. Felix didn't want to admit it, but he enjoyed having Sylvain's comforting hands guide him around.

"You know, the first time we came here you spent more than an hour in this tunnel. You just kinda sat down on the floor. It was a weekday so there was hardly anyone here."

"What did you do? Sit down with me?"

"Nah, I went and got a coffee. I shared it with you. You wouldn't leave until your stomach started growling and I promised we could come back whenever. We were regulars here for a while," explained Sylvain. He sounded very nostalgic. Felix's heart ached. Despite his similarities with Sylvain's husband, in the end, he couldn't be him. No matter how much he wanted to be.

"You keep making me sound like a loser," Felix said instead. There was no need to drag Sylvain down from his good mood with his internal angst.

"I mean, you were. But so was I. It looks like we're perfect for each other, Fe."

Felix _had_ to roll his eyes at that comment and kept filming the rays.

"I have fond memories of this place," said Sylvain.

"Because you like fish."

"Yeah, 'cause I like _fish_," he said flirtatiously once again. Felix tried to avoid looking him in the eye. His eyes were probably smouldering. His voice alone was magnetic— there was no need to be drawn in any further.

Then, Sylvain said quietly, "I proposed to you here." 

Considering their apparent history at the site, that was really a romantic gesture. The thought of that made Felix's heart ache too. He tried to brush it off.

"Not in a restaurant? That's a waste of free dessert."

Sylvain laughed. It was at least partly genuine— his nose wrinkled a bit as he laughed. "You bought me ice cream afterwards anyway."

Obviously, Felix had said yes if they were married now. He wondered… did Sylvain regret marrying him? Maybe it did bring happiness for a while— but look where they were now. Sylvain was stuck in relationship limbo while Felix was left feeling wholly inadequate. 

Unable to stop himself, he voiced his doubts. His voice was soft and paper-thin. “Do you regret marrying me?”

Sylvain paused his footsteps and _looked_ at him. His eyes were unavoidably intense like usual, but now, they burned. Sylvain shook his head. “I would never regret marrying you, Felix. I promise. Whatever you can give me, I’ll take it. Until you’ve had enough of me.”

“Idiot,” growled Felix. He jammed his phone into his pocket and tugged Sylvain’s collar down to meet him at eye-level. “Stop acting like I’m just going to walk out. Didn’t I already say that I wasn’t going anywhere?”

“It’s hard to believe,” said Sylvain. “That you would want to stay with me.”

That sounded ridiculous in Felix’s opinion. Sylvain was bright like the sun. He was gorgeous and he knew it. He held the attention of anyone who walked by him— it was impossible to look away. Despite his terrible sense of humour, Sylvain was unexpectedly intelligent; he was the kind of guy who actually enjoyed chess. Somehow, he was devastatingly lovely and careful with Felix. Felix’s heart was inevitably moved; it wasn’t made of stone. Sylvain was so, so beyond Felix’s league that Felix felt that maybe _he_ was the one who should feel self-conscious about their pre-established relationship.

He didn’t like it when Sylvain seemed upset. It used to happen more often— his sullen moods were little micro-blips on the radar. Apart from Sylvain’s breakdown the previous night, he had truly seemed stable. Clearly Felix didn’t know him nearly as well as he thought he did if Sylvain was able to hide his feelings so flawlessly. Maybe that was part of the reason why Sylvain seemed to doubt Felix would stay.

After his amnesia, Felix really _didn’t _know him well. It was a wrestling match between the absence of his memories and the undercurrent of emotions that would wash over him whenever he was near Sylvain; fondness, passion, fixation, sorrow and bitterness consumed him. He didn’t know why he felt so complicated when he was around Sylvain. Maybe that was a residual product of being in love. Either way, it was all usually overridden with a reluctant wave of desire and happiness whenever Sylvain addressed him.

The overwhelming need to cheer up Sylvain grabbed a hold of his mind. “You’re an imbecile,” he said. He had long known that Sylvain _definitely_ enjoyed his insults and he fully intended to keep utilising that to his advantage. “But there’s only one way to prove you wrong.”

Maybe it was a bit early to decide, but Felix didn’t think he would ever want to leave Sylvain— his home… unless something seriously drastic were to happen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
Bonus:  
  
“I like fish too,” Felix said calmly. “You know, _fish. _”
> 
> “_Fish_,” said Sylvain excitedly.
> 
> I updated the tags yet again to reflect this fic better. But yes! This will be a part of a series and I am going to try my hardest to have a satisfying Sylvix ending. This chapter proofed by Nuity, Elliot ([scatteringmyashes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/scatteringmyashes/pseuds/scatteringmyashes)) and Cherry ([cherryconke](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherryconke/pseuds/cherryconke)). Thanks guys!


	4. Chapter 4

Felix was nervous about dinner. 

Sylvain had told him that their friends who were attending were quite relaxing to be around; two of their more livelier friends, Dimitri and Annette, were too busy to come. Unfortunately, they were preoccupied by work. Sylvain explained that this was a regular occurrence so it was unnecessary to reschedule. It was almost impossible to get all together since their timetables were so different. Such was the life of real adults.

He had repeatedly assured Felix that no one would mind if he couldn't remember everything about them. But Felix remembered what Sylvain's face looked like every time he recalled a fact or story from their past life that Felix could not.

Felix had tried his best to remember all that Sylvain had told him about them and had even written all of the details down. It was hard, though. Friends weren’t supposed to be words on a flashcard.

He squinted at the card in his hand.

From what he could recall, Mercedes, the doctor who had attended him, was actually a long-time friend of Sylvain’s from his weekly yoga class. Felix was more interested in the fact that Sylvain did weekly yoga than this stranger he'd barely talked to. He couldn’t remember her age, her likes, or her dislikes. Yeah, this was going to be a disaster.

“This is impossible,” he grumbled.

“What is?” Sylvain asked from the kitchen. He was making some kind of noodle soup and had been at it for hours and hours. 

“Memorising these. I can’t get any of these facts to stay in my head.”

Sylvain laughed. “You never did like studying.”

“This is different.”

“The more pressure you put on yourself, the harder it will be. Take a break. Come try this, I need a second opinion.”

Felix groaned and got up from the couch, waddling over towards the stove. Sylvain was wearing an ostentatious pink apron that said, ‘Kiss the Chef’. It had the opposite effect; it made him want to deck the chef. 

Sylvain offered him a tasting spoon filled with pale, fragrant broth. He took a sip from it.

“Good, right?” Sylvain’s eyes crinkled with merriment.

Felix snorted. “If you already know it’s good, why did you bother making me try it?”

“The way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. I have to ensure that I’ve successfully ensnared you, sweetheart.”

Felix fixed him with a glare.

“Alright, alright. I just wanted to distract you. It’s alright if you don’t get everything right, Fe. The guys are just happy you’re still here with us, and that you’re willing to give this a go.”

Felix was silent for a moment. His thoughts were in constant flux, a never-ending cycle of turmoil. “I can’t help but feel inadequate. How can I measure up to who I used to be if I don’t remember any of this? They’re just going to be disappointed.”

‘Just like how I’ve disappointed you,’ he thought. 

He doubted that this dinner would end well.

He was sorely tempted to call the whole thing off but deep down he knew he couldn't avoid it. If he wanted to get his life back on track, he had to meet these people eventually. Even if they no longer wanted to be friends with him. He needed closure.

Sylvain made a noise of frustration and put his soup ladle down. He turned around and boxed Felix against the counter, the weight of his hips anchoring Felix down so that he had to struggle to move. He leaned down, pressing his forehead to Felix’s. 

“Fe,” he said. He stared deeply into Felix’s eyes, the sweet affection in them overtook Felix’s nervousness. “I know you’ll do fine, okay? We really do love you. No matter what you do, or who you become.”

Felix closed his eyes and let out a long, shaky exhale. “I know. I’m just frustrated. I hate feeling useless. Helpless.”

Sylvain released him and clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Maybe we’ve kept you cooped up for too long. Do you want to go back to work, maybe? You said you remembered how to do some parts of your job right? It’s just personal things giving you trouble.”

“I only remember some of it,” Felix admitted. “Not much really.”

He could use computers proficiently, and they discovered that he remembered how to drive. He’d read over old reports he’d written and he was pleasantly surprised when he found out that he could somehow understand their contents. It wasn’t enough to be able to jump in head first, but Sylvain assured him that the company would be willing to retrain him. He’d been hired partly based on nepotism; the consultancy he worked at was run by Gilbert Dominic, a friend of his late father and the father of one of their childhood friends, Annette.

“If you’re comfortable, it might be for the best for you to go back to work. The earlier you return, the faster you’ll get yourself up to speed.”

“Maybe you’re right,” Felix murmured.

The doorbell rang, interrupting their conversation. 

Felix looked towards the door with trepidation. “Should I get that?”

“I can if you want,” offered Sylvain with a gentle smile. 

“No,” said Felix with a shaky exhale. “I might as well rip off the bandage.”

He walked in the direction of the door; when he opened it, he saw a young woman with short, golden hair pinned back in braids. She was wearing a dark emerald green dress. Felix recognised her as Ingrid, who the flashcards said was one of their childhood friends. From Sylvain's descriptions of her, she was a strict and no-nonsense lawyer. Felix couldn’t imagine someone like that getting along with Sylvain.

“Hey there, Felix,” she said pleasantly. Her smile was a little strained, but she still offered a hand to Felix. Felix eyed her warily before shaking it. “I’m Ingrid. I guess it’s nice to meet you again.”

“Likewise,” said Felix awkwardly. He took his hand back quickly. It was clammy.

“I’m not done with the soup yet, Ingrid!” shouted Sylvain from the kitchen.

Ingrid rolled her eyes. “You’re going to be late,” she called back. 

“Can’t rush perfection!”

Ingrid huffed and made her way inside the apartment. She turned to Felix with mischief in her eyes. “I swear, he’s always like this. I knew I should have called Ashe up. Who knows how long he’ll have to sit in the car.”

Ingrid had offered to drive Sylvain and Felix to Mercedes’ house for dinner. Sylvain had waxed poetic about carpooling and its environmental benefits for twenty minutes after Felix questioned why they couldn’t just drive there themselves. 

Logistically, it did make sense, since their home was on the way to Mercedes’ from Ingrid’s and Ashe’s apartment. Ashe was apparently Felix’s friend from university who had wormed his way into their close-knit circle. They’d introduced him to Ingrid when they found out that both of them were looking for roommates. Felix couldn’t remember much else about him though.

“He’s been at it all afternoon,” explained Felix. “Is he always like this?”

“You’d know better than me.”

“I really don’t,” said Felix, tired.

“Don’t tell me that after a few weeks living with him you still don’t know what a drama queen he is?”

“I can hear you!”

“Then cook faster!” they both shouted back.

It took another twenty minutes before Sylvain was satisfied with the soup and noodles, and another fifteen before they were able to pack everything away. 

By the time they’d finally made their way down to the parking lot, Ashe had fallen asleep in the back seat of the car. Felix glanced at his slim, slumped form. His pale hair seemed dull under the lights of the garage.

“He had a big week,” said Ingrid. “He didn’t want to miss this though.”

They managed to nudge him up, but he continued sleeping sitting up against the car seat. Sylvain sat shotgun, where he regaled Ingrid with tales from the past fortnight. Felix could hear the enthusiasm in Sylvain’s voice as he described their dates and daily life. It warmed his heart a little. He hated to admit it, but being loved like this… wasn’t so bad after all. 

“You sound like you’re getting along then?” she said. Ingrid pitched her voice so that Felix could hear her properly from the backseat. “If you’re ever not happy living with him, you’re more than welcome to stay with us, Felix. Our couch folds out.”

“Ingrid, stop trying to steal my husband from me!”

“I’m just saying,” said Ingrid patiently. “That it’s okay for you to want some space, Felix. You don’t have to go along with whatever this idiot decides. I know this is probably very overwhelming… just know that we’re here for you.”

It was a bit disconcerting to hear such a heartfelt offer from someone who was practically a stranger. Sylvain really was all that he knew, and he had been very good to him. Sure, he was occasionally irritating, and sometimes pushy about his health choices, but Felix couldn’t really imagine life without him now. He loved being able to wake up to the sound and smell of Sylvain cooking breakfast. He loved being able to banter with him about inane, silly things. He loved knowing that Sylvain was there for him even if he didn’t need his help.

He loved many things about Sylvain, even if he didn’t know if he loved Sylvain himself. It had only been a few weeks, but it felt like he was reliving habits of years gone past. Life without Sylvain would definitely be possible, but a sting in his heart told him that it wouldn’t be the same if he couldn’t see that affable grin every morning.

He knew that Ingrid was offering out of the good of her own heart, but it really was a bit annoying that she was insinuating that Sylvain was a pain in the butt to live with (which, well, wasn’t _ not _ true, but he was Felix’s pain in the butt). He needed to be polite about it. He didn’t want to push her away.

“Thanks for the offer,” he said tersely. “But living with Sylvain is nice. I’m not looking to change my arrangements.”

“Fe! I knew you liked my company,” Sylvain said exuberantly. Felix could imagine the grin on his face.

Unfortunately, their loud conversation made their sleeping beauty stir.

“Wha? Where am I?” asked Ashe drowsily while rubbing the sleepiness out of his eyes. Felix could sympathise with waking up in an unfamiliar place.

“We’re on our way to Mercy’s," answered Ingrid. Felix filed that nickname away for future use.

Ashe looked outside the window, possibly ascertaining their location. It was pretty dark. Felix himself couldn’t recognise the street they were on. Ashe rubbed his eyes a bit more and then stared at Felix. 

“Felix! It’s been a while,” he said good-naturedly. 

Felix inclined his head slightly. “It’s nice you meet you again.”

Ashe’s shining, exuberant eyes seemed to dim a little at Felix’s greeting. “Ah yeah, it’s nice to meet you again. I, um, hope we can still be friends.”

Ashe gave Felix the impression of a slightly startled rabbit. He seemed a bit timid and had a soft presence even though he wasn’t much smaller than Felix himself. 

"I hope so too," answered Felix honestly.

"You got a new phone, right? Add my number. That way, if you need anything and Sylvain isn't around, you can just call me."

Felix unlocked his phone and entered Ashe's number in. "You don't use social media?" 

"Of course I do. But you don’t, right? I think you've left our group chat at least five times."

It did sound in character for him. “I’ll send you a text so you can have my number,” said Felix.

Ashe’s screen lit up; his lock screen display was a promotional image of the Blue Lions.

“You’re a super fan?”

Ashe nodded bashfully. “It’s a bit embarrassing, but they’re so cool.”

“Who’s your favourite?” Felix asked awkwardly, trying to make conversation.

“It’s a toss up between Knight Glider, Sun King and Darkthorn,” Ashe said after a moment of thought. Felix had no idea which ones they were.

“What, no love for Solaris? He’s the hottest one!” Sylvain exclaimed.

Ingrid laughed. “Is that supposed to be a joke?”

At Felix’s confused look, Ashe said by way of explanation, “Solaris is a fire-powered hero.”

“Sounds like about right for Sylvain’s sense of humour,” said Felix. 

They spent the rest of the car ride listening to Sylvain and Ingrid squabble. Ashe would occasionally interject with a tidbit from his own life, and Felix would interject to correct Sylvain’s embellishments of their carefree, domestic life. 

It was almost nice. Felix hoped that the rest of the night would go accordingly. 

They pulled up to Mercedes’ apartment and walked up the stairs. She lived in the nice part of town; as they drove in, Felix had noted the ivy climbing up the redbricks, and the classic ironworks that made up most of the railings they passed.

They rang the doorbell once. 

A tall, broad, muscular man opened the door. His silver hair was styled in a stylish topknot over an undercut. He looked artfully tousled in the same way Sylvain seemed to aim for.

Well. He wasn’t Mercedes, that’s for sure.

“Come in,” he said, his voice warm and steady.

“Dedue, it’s been a while, buddy,” said Ashe. He walked over to him with enthusiasm and hugged the man with great familiarity. 

“Stop hogging him,” said Sylvain. He trotted up and inserted himself into the hug nonchalantly. Typical Sylvain behaviour.

According to Felix’s briefing, Dedue was apparently a psychiatrist. When Felix had accused Sylvain of pushing therapy onto him by inviting him to dinner, Sylvain had explained that Dedue was the roommate of their childhood friend, Dimitri. Ironically, Dimitri couldn’t make it that night.

“Let me know if you need help getting these limpets off of you,” said Ingrid. She turned to Felix. “They’ll be a while, so I’ll introduce you to Mercedes first.”

They walked through the apartment— despite its posh, prime location and charm, it was quite small. The kitchen wasn’t so far from the entryway. 

Felix noted the warm colours of the decor and the various plants that lined up the windowsills of the apartment. It was dark now, but he could imagine the dappled light that would cut through the gauzy curtains and the tall trees outside at dawn. 

“Hello Felix,” said Mercedes. She looked well. Her rosy cheeks indicated that she had spent some time in the warm kitchen. She seemed to be mixing some kind of crumbs together in a bowl.

“Hey,” he said.

“Don’t be a stranger,” she said, but that honestly made Felix feel even more awkward.

Ingrid pulled him over to the kitchen island where Mercedes was standing. She continued to work with the bowl, pouring the crumbs over a shallow oven pan.

“What are you making?” asked Ingrid.

There was a slight furrow in Mercedes’ brow at Ingrid’s question and tenseness in her voice when she replied. “Oh, nothing special. Just an apple crumble. If we put it in now, it’ll still be warm when we’re done with dinner. You and Ashe bought a side dish, right?”

If Ingrid could sense the slight animosity from Mercedes, she said nothing of it. “We made a salad. Ashe insisted,” she replied. “I wanted to roast veggies, but maybe he’s right. Sylvain’s cooking is usually pretty filling.”

Mercedes busied herself with fiddling with the pan, shaking it out until the crumbs were level. She replied absentmindedly, “Yes, Sylvain’s cooking is quite good.”

She looked up from her work and smiled at Felix. “How are you feeling? No complications, right?”

“I’m fine. Nothing has changed,” he said.

“I’m glad,” said Mercedes, and she sounded mostly, if not completely genuine. “Let me know if you have any complications. I’m here to help.”

She turned around to preheat the oven. “Ingrid, would you be a dear and set out the salad? And Felix, if you wouldn’t mind fetching Sylvain—”

“Sure," said Felix.

He left the kitchen and walked to the lounge room, where the three men had apparently stopped hugging and were chatting somewhat amicably. Ashe looked a little awkward. Felix couldn’t tell what Dedue was thinking though; the man had a serious case of resting bitch face.

“Sylvain, Mercedes called for you,” he said.

“Right, food,” said Sylvain. He quickly separated himself from the conversation and carried his takeout bags to the kitchen.

Dedue and Ashe seemed to exchange a look as he left.

“He made noodle soup,” Felix said awkwardly by way of explanation. 

Thankfully, they seemed to accept his olive branch of a conversation starter. 

“I’m looking forward to it,” said Ashe. “Sylvain doesn’t cook much, but it’s nice when he does.”

“What do you mean? He cooks every day,” said Felix.

They both looked at him with surprise in their eyes. Ashe recovered first. “Well, in that case, we can’t let him get away with refusing to cook for these potlucks anymore.”

“You shouldn’t,” Felix agreed. He didn’t know what else to say.

They lead him to the dinner table and sat down. Dedue fiddled with his napkin; Felix guessed it was in nervousness. 

“I’m glad to see you’re well,” said Dedue. “I’m sorry I haven’t been able to visit you. Things have been unfortunately busy lately.”

“It’s fine,” said Felix. “It’s not like I mind.”

“Still, my actions are regrettable towards a friend. I hope we can get to know each other again,” said Dedue, voice insistent. “We were never very close, but I hope we can change that.”

“Yeah, sure,” said Felix. He was at a loss for words. It was uncomfortable, being around these people with preconceptions about him that he couldn’t control. Was there a reason why he and Dedue weren’t close? How would he know?

Thankfully, Ingrid and Sylvain saved him from that awkward conversation by bringing out drinks and bowls of salad. 

“Are you okay?” asked Sylvain as he handed him his drink. Felix could tell it was ginger beer from the scent.

“Don’t worry, I’m fine. Just a little hungry.”

“Alright. If you say so,” said Sylvain, and then said in a hushed whisper, “If this gets too overwhelming, just pinch my thigh and I’ll make an excuse for us to leave. I’ll be right next to you.”

Felix nodded. He did appreciate it. Sylvain was consistently thoughtful, more than his flashy appearance suggested.

The noodle soup was good; Sylvain had made the stock from scratch. It had taken hours. The broth was light but fragrant, and the meat and vegetables were tender. The noodles were store-bought, but they absorbed the flavour of the broth amazingly well.

The conversation was lighthearted and not too awkward. They went around the table and talked about their lives in the last fortnight. Each of them told Felix a bit about themselves. He learnt a lot about them just from the way they spoke: Dedue was steady, with a soothing voice, and never said more than he had to, Ashe was exuberant and energetic, keen to share interesting tidbits from his daily life, Mercedes was calming and kind, and encouraged each of them to talk, and Ingrid had a bit of a holier-than-thou attitude, but seemed to care about the well-being of her friends.

It went well until they started talking about recent news.

“Apparently Stareye escaped this week,” said Ingrid.

“They didn’t send anyone after them?” asked Felix.

“The Lions sent out Sun King and Moongazer, but they weren’t able to apprehend her. Villains are seriously slippery,” said Ashe, disappointedly.

“They should really be assigning a higher priority to this. Stareye is--”

“A danger to society, yes, Sylvain. We know,” said Ingrid in exasperation, as if she has heard this spiel countless of times before.

“They should have really sent Solaris instead of Moongazer,” Sylvain said sharply. “He’s not suited for retrieval missions.”

With every word out of Sylvain’s mouth, Ashe seemed to sink into this seat a bit more. That didn’t really make sense in Felix’s head. Ashe even hadn’t claimed that Moongazer was one of his favourites. Still, Ashe seemed genuinely upset. Felix nudged Sylvain with his foot. They were supposed to be building friendships, not destroying them.

“Moongazer is a new superhero,” said Ingrid. “He’s going to make mistakes. The media makes it hard enough on the Blue Lions, Sylvain. There’s no need to add fuel to the fire.”

“I don’t you appreciate bringing… politics to the table, Sylvain,” said Mercedes, with clear disappointment colouring her voice. 

Sylvain huffed quietly and continued eating his soup. “Right. Sorry.”

The conversation lulled until Dedue started talking about his garden. Sylvain interjected to talk about their few houseplants as well. After they finished the soup, they shared dessert; the apple crumble was enough to sweeten their moods.

After they finished eating, they settled in against Mercedes’ couches and beanbags to watch a movie, which they insisted was a tradition. Even though there was enough room, Sylvain urged Felix to take the loveseat and then sat between Felix’s legs. Felix’s fingers itched; the temptation to run his fingers through Sylvain’s soft hair was real.

“Right, what movie?” asked Ingrid

“A classic, maybe?” suggested Dedue.

“Something relaxing,” said Mercedes. “I’ve had a tiring day.”

“Long shift?” asked Ingrid.

After a moment passed, Mercedes replied coldly, “Somewhat.”

“Felix, why don’t you pick something?” asked Ashe. 

Felix knew of movies, but he couldn’t remember if he liked them or not. It was as if all of the information concerning his person had been wiped clean from his mind, but all else had remained.

He looked down at Sylvain. Well, if his husband couldn’t remember what he liked, then why would he keep him around? “What’s a movie I like?”

Sylvain paused for a moment in thought, resting his head on Felix’s thigh. He lolled his head to look in Ashe’s direction. “Grave of the Fireflies.”

“Absolutely not,” said Ashe. “This week has already been depressing enough.”

“Another Studio Ghibli movie, then? I like Spirited Away,” offered Mercedes as a compromise.

They all made noises of agreement. Mercedes really did like Spirited Away; she had the blu-ray in her tv cabinet, so they didn’t even need to check its availability on streaming sites.

Felix enjoyed it. It seemed like a childish movie, but he could relate to the protagonist. Swept away, into a foreign world, where she didn’t know friend from foe. She didn’t understand the customs and ways of this foreign land. Slowly, through the loss of her name, she even started to forget her identity.

But she remembered everything in the end, and evenutally was able to return to a world of familiarity.

***

The dinner had gone well. It wasn’t amazing; he certainly didn’t reconnect with his friends instantly, and much of their interactions were mired in awkwardness on his part, but it did seem like they were on the path to restoring their friendship.

Sylvain had encouraged him to take a day or two to think about returning to his job. 

Felix probably really was a workaholic if he was so restless staying at home. Even with a schedule; waking up, helping Sylvain make breakfast, going to help the community garden, going to the library to find books and then reading them nearby cafes and then helping Sylvain make dinner, his life didn’t offer enough structure.

The day after the dinner, he went to a bubble tea cafe a few blocks from their house, where he started reading ‘The Song of Achilles’, which was apparently another of Sylvain’s favourite books. It was an easy read; the style of the author was lyrical but simple. After two hours of reading, he was almost halfway through. He sympathised with the headstrong, but simple and kind Patroclus, and judged the strong but short-sighted Achilles. 

“Excuse me,” interjected a soft voice. “Would you mind if I sit here? There are no other seats available.”

“I don’t care.”

“Thanks!” the woman chirped. She quickly slid the chair out. Curiosity got the better of him, and he looked up from his book.

“You look familiar,” said Felix, observing her. She looked a bit like that woman whose dog had tried to maul him.

“Oh? You’ve forgotten me already? I guess I must’ve neglected to make a stellar impression. I haven’t been able to get you out of my mind, handsome.”

“I’m married,” Felix said. He could feel his patience running thin. He just wanted to get back to his book. As irritating Achilles was, he still wanted to see how the story turned out.

“Ah sorry, I guess I _ was _ laying it on a bit thick. You just seem like an interesting person. I’d honestly really like to be friends; you can call me Dora,” she said, disregarding Felix’s frosty demeanour. 

Maybe going outside was a mistake, Felix thought. He stood up and left the table. He’d long finished his drink. He could just finish reading at home. He slammed the shop door open; the ringing of the bell startled the customers sitting by the doorway, but he paid no heed and kept walking.

“Hey, wait up,” called the woman, trotting after him.

Felix did not wait up and continued to walk. Had he found a stalker? Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to go home if she was going to follow him all the way there. He could lead her around in circles and maybe try to lose her in a department store.

He was unfortunately stalled by a red light at the pedestrian crossing anyway. He pushed at the pedestrian crossing light impatiently, tapping his shoe on the concrete. 

“Oh man, you’re fast,” said Dora. Despite her words, she didn’t seem out of breath. Maybe she was used to chasing men around. Felix had no time for women like her.

“I told you already, I’m not interested,” he growled.

“Yeah, I heard you loud and clear buddy,” she retorted. “But I never paid you back for ruining your shirt, did I?”

“I can afford to pay for dry cleaning,” said Felix. The signal of the crossing started beeping so he walked forward. She followed.

“Still,” she said. She pulled something out of her pockets. “I work for the community theatre and they gave me tickets. They’re doing a Midsummer Night’s Dream. I was going to give them to a friend but none of them are interested.”

Felix looked at the tickets. Sylvain did like the theatre and often sang along to musical soundtracks in the shower. But— no, this woman was way too suspicious.

“No thanks,” he said.

“I won’t even be there,” said Dorothea with a conspiratory smile. “It’s not one of my productions. You said you’re married right? You could take your wife out. You’re cute, but you can’t keep coasting on your good looks, sir. The ladies hate boorish men.”

“My _ husband _ probably won’t appreciate me taking tickets from strange women. Goodbye,” said Felix. 

He tried to walk away, but she pulled his arm back, stopping him. He felt a shock of static electricity where she touched him.

“Let go,” he said tersely.

“What’s the harm?” she asked. A strange sense of calm washed over him. What _ was _ the harm? He thought. Sylvain wouldn’t really mind. He was a romantic who loved going on dates. He would probably be thrilled if Felix ever took the initiative. 

At his visible hesitation, she shoved the tickets at his chest. 

“I’ll give them to you; whatever you do with them is up to you. I do hope you go, though. It’s a great show.” 

At that, she walked off, seemingly giving up her pursuit of him. How strange. 

Felix stared at the tickets in his hands, almost fixated by the swirls on the text. Robotically, he put the tickets in his bags and put the matter in the back of his mind as he walked back home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta'd by the wonderful [samariumwriting](https://archiveofourown.org/users/samariumwriting/pseuds/samariumwriting)
> 
> I'm looking to go back to updating this once a month, and possibly more often after Sylvain Week 1 (March 1st-7th) is over.

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on twitter at [Feroxai_](https://twitter.com/Feroxai_)
> 
> Still technically on hiatus but I'm planning on updating the plot + coming back soonish (Aug-Sept).


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